


Making an Alphabet Book for Valentine’s Day is Not Really a Gift

by theagonyofblank



Category: Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-11
Updated: 2007-02-11
Packaged: 2017-10-21 22:08:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theagonyofblank/pseuds/theagonyofblank
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was indoctrinating the little ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making an Alphabet Book for Valentine’s Day is Not Really a Gift

**Author's Note:**

> This is the _S60_ Valentine's Day fic. Thanks to [](http://wizened-cynic.livejournal.com/profile)[**wizened_cynic**](http://wizened-cynic.livejournal.com/) for the idea, and for the word “indoctrinate”!

It might have been hard to believe, but as president of a television network, Jordan McDeere did have better things to do. Things that didn’t involve making an alphabet book for a child that was not yet born, but rather involved her job description – such as answering Jack’s phone calls and disagreeing with Hallie’s ideas. (Because Jack was Jack her boss, and she couldn’t _really_ get away with not answering his calls. And as for Hallie, her ideas were crap, and really, challenging the vice president of alternative programming was just a part of her job that she enjoyed too much.) But making an alphabet book was so much more entertaining, and it did _refer_ to her work – “A” is for “Acting” – so really, no one could complain.

She was indoctrinating the little ones.

Life lessons. They could learn a lot from her little book, actually.

And because of said book, they might even consider a career in media entertainment when they grew to be adults.

Really, Jack should be thanking her.

When she showed the book to Harriet (with a flourish and a proud smile and a “Happy Valentine’s Day”) later that evening in bed, the blonde only stared for a long moment before bringing up all the aforementioned points – the points that involved her job description, not indoctrination of young children.

Harriet managed to sum it all up more quickly, however, as she opted for a simpler approach, “ _This_ is what the president of a television network does?” She didn’t seem impressed, but Jordan was sure that was just the surprise and joy talking. Harriet glanced from Jordan to the book with an incredulous look, flipping through the pages to get a quick look at what was inside. Then she shook her head and laughed, “Jordan, _I_ could do your job.”

“Of course you can,” Jordan replied dryly, rolling her eyes. Then she put a finger to her lips. “But don’t go telling everyone; they might all want to be president of NBS. And we can’t have that competition. It’s unhealthy. I might lose my job, and what will we do about the baby? It will need to eat. And it needs money to eat. It’s only a baby. It can’t earn money, Harry.” The corners of her lips quirked into a smile as Harriet sighed and leaned into her a little more. She poked her tongue out at the blonde, “What?”

“I just-” Harriet paused, as though something had just occurred to her. “ _This_ is your Valentine’s gift to me?”

“Well, yes,” Jordan replied, matter-of-fact.

“Only you would give me an alphabet book for Valentine’s.”

Jordan looked as though she was expecting something more than that.

Harriet tried a compliment, but all that came out was, “That’s, um. Interesting.”

Jordan stared at her, brow raised.

Harriet tried again. “Not very romantic.”

“It _is_ romantic. _I_ am romantic.”

“Jordan. How is making an ABC book for your child romantic?”

“Well.”

“Exactly. It’s _not_.”

“I beg to differ.”

Harriet waited for an explanation.

Sensing this, Jordan continued with a shrug, “You like cute little things. I thought this was cute, and by proxy it would be a thing to give you that you would like.”

“Because it is cute.”

“Because it is cute.”

“I stand corrected.”

“You’re not really standing, Harry.”

Harriet made a face. “I am lying-next-to-you corrected.”

There was another pause.

Then Harriet asked, “Where did you find the time to make this?”

“Why? Do you think we should do a whole collection of them?” Jordan asked, half-serious. The scary part was she had actually thought about this. “Because I could. I could write one about the legal system, and then I could write another about the medical field. You see where I’m going with this. Our child would never go hungry.”

Harriet rolled her eyes, laughing a little. “I’m not worried about your child going hungry right now.” As though to prove her point, Harriet’s belly gave a little growl.

Jordan suddenly jumped up, cursing.

“What? What’s wrong?” Harriet asked, worried, perhaps, that Jordan had noticed and was upset at the reference of “her” child, as opposed to “their” child. “Are you okay?”

“What time is it?”

Harriet glanced at the clock by her bedside. “Seven.”

Jordan looked relieved, and she rolled out of bed, pulling on her clothes as she did so. This actually took longer than it should have, as she had to hunt around the room for the clothes that were strewn all over the place, and then she had to make sure that it was actually her clothes she was holding, not Harriet’s. After a while she realized that Harriet still hadn’t moved from where she was lying; instead, the blonde seemed content to watch Jordan run around the room and pull on her clothes. She frowned slightly, “Harry, hurry up. We can still make it.”

“‘Hurry up, we can still make it’?” Harriet repeated, lost. “What can we still make?”

“Well, you didn’t _really_ think that that was your Valentine’s Day present, did you?” When Harriet didn’t reply, Jordan sighed and went on, “I reserved a table for us at Cafe Provençal.”

Harriet brightened. “ _Oh_.” And she rolled out of bed.

It took her a little while, but by seven-ten she was dressed, and by seven-fifteen they were both out of the door. By seven-thirty-five, they had arrived at the restaurant, five minutes late for their reservation (with all the traffic, it was amazing they were _only_ five minutes late). By seven-forty they were seated at a table by the window.

“Jordan?” Harriet asked as she looked over the menu.

“Harry?” Jordan intoned, glancing up with a smile.

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

“The book.”

Jordan snorted.

“Really. It was cute.” Harriet insisted, grinning in that way of hers. When Jordan gave her a look, she relented, “Okay, maybe not so much for the book – but it _was_ cute. Maybe more for this. Thanks for this.”

Jordan’s smile widened. “You’re welcome.” She glanced down at her menu, and then back up again. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Harry.”

“Happy Valentine’s, Jordan.”

\- - - - - - -

  



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